


Oriole's Cry

by bluetoast



Series: Birds of a Feather [69]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Deaf Dean Winchester, Gen, Miscarriage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-19
Updated: 2014-06-19
Packaged: 2018-02-05 08:17:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1811596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluetoast/pseuds/bluetoast
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With Liesel away at college, Dean finally has time to focus on other things. Trouble is, the only thing he seems to be able to think about is his relationship with Jess. He doesn't know what exactly to call it; and it's not easy to want more, but at the same time not wanting to risk losing what they do have.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Oriole's Cry

**Author's Note:**

> Everyone who wanted to know what happened between Dean and Sam to make them stop being friends? Here's your answer.

At one time, Dean Coulter could run a mile in exactly seven minutes – he never had any desire to try and make it less. Seven minutes – four hundred and twenty seconds – that was plenty fast. He'd spent hours perfecting vaults, dismounts, release moves and somersaults with dozens of variations; but the seven minute mile remained constant. It was like the ground – keep track of how far down it was, run a mile in seven minutes.

Now, all these years later, Dean couldn't do even half of the gymnastics moves he once did – and he could run a mile in ten minutes. 

Adding three minutes in twenty years wasn't that bad. 

Liesel could run a mile in eight minutes.

Liesel was now one thousand and fifteen miles away in Athens, Georgia.

Dean had returned home from taking her to college and when he got back, it struck him that he was now alone in the house. Well, there was Noroc, but she was a cat and she was also getting old. As he sat on the couch, said cat came in and curled up next to him. It struck him how still everything was. While he couldn't hear a thing, there had been movement to the house with Liesel there. The smell of laundry, dinner or Pine-Sol that drifted around, giving the house its own scent. Now there was nothing – the house had been unoccupied for a handful of days and in those days it had settled, leaving it in a type of sleep.

He thought he was prepared for his daughter being gone, but no – no it was still unnerving and he was starting to think he'd been very foolish to let her go to school so far away. 

The University of Texas was just a handful of miles away. She could have stayed at home and - 

Dean shook his head. He was just fooling himself if he thought Liesel would stay at home forever.

He rubbed the back of the cat's head, smiling tiredly.

It'd been a good summer, all around.

Him, his dad and Liesel had all worked on making her a loft for her dorm room. It was the first time he and his dad had done a project in what seemed like forever. Perhaps he and his dad could find a new one to start; trouble was, there wasn't much he could think of. No kitchen cabinets or tables to refurbish – nothing to build either. Working together had been the best part of it – and he was actually sort of surprised that Liesel wanted to keep the loft's wood grain color and not paint it. 

Dean was also very proud of himself for not crying when he left Liesel at school.

Noroc had fallen asleep next to him and he just watched as the shadows in the family room lengthened, trying to think what exactly was he supposed to do now? He hadn't really thought about what it would be like to be alone in this house and... his phone vibrated in his pocket and he pulled it out. He smiled and read the text Liesel had sent him.

_Another Pasta Murder has occurred!_

It was accompanied by a picture of a plate of spaghetti, with the barest hints of sauce on it, looking overcooked and limp. 

Another message followed it.

_Ate the pasta anyway – at least the salad was good. Did you have a safe trip home?_

Dean chuckled and sent off a reply. 

_Home safe and sound – inform me of any mashed potato brutality._

He stood and went into the kitchen and got out a container of leftovers. So many things to adjust now. It was different when he went to college. Gallaudet was in DC and he'd lived at home after the first year. Maybe when he went away to Stanford it'd been different at his parents' house. They never said. A part of him was wishing he hadn't had Liesel skip fourth grade all those years ago, and at the same time – he wouldn't have it any other way. Dean figured he just had to get used to it. 

*  
Order was how the Coulters got through life. With a change in the order, Dean found that lack of a companion in it was – off-putting. Certainly he and Liesel had been changing things these past few years, but things that had remained constant – like packing lunches and making dinner menus – and now, now Dean found himself doing it on his own and it was strange. 

Then there was the little matter of Jess.

There was a relationship he wasn't exactly sure how to define. 

They went out a few times – never anything serious. Or rather, He was determined not to make it serious. This wasn't because he felt that it was wrong or that a part of him didn't want to, it was because the last thing he wanted was for their relationship to end badly and for him to lose her friendship. Jess hadn't said anything about it, and he greatly appreciated her learning ASL – and he didn't laugh when she signed the wrong thing. It was a mistake that could happen to anyone and it was a lot harder to learn any language when you were older. 

Liesel hadn't objected to anything about their relationship – which he took as a good sign. She'd just flatly told him that he had to be back by ten when he went out. When he asked, she stated that if that was her curfew, it should be his as well. Most parents, he suspected, would be angry at a child telling them that. Instead, he stated that he was older and therefore, should get a later curfew. 

So she told him to be home by eleven.

When he relayed this story to Jess, she'd laughed and reported that David told her to not do anything he wasn't allowed to do. 

Dean skirted uncertainly around David the same way Jess did around Liesel. They kept things simple and light. There had been the time this past summer when all four of them had gone to a Rangers game, he and Liesel in their Orioles shirts and Jess and David in shirts for the home team. It'd been – nice. 

His parents said nothing about it – although his mother remarked that his attitude had changed for the better.

Dean didn't even know what she meant by that. 

He could remember when Jess showed up on his and Ignacia's door, red eyed and crying. In the midst of her crying, she'd explained that Sam had broken up with her for the fact that she wanted to have kids someday and he never wanted them. Sam said something about kids getting in the way and Dean knew exactly where that had come from. 

John.

The man may have never raised a hand to Sam, but there had been something there, something indirect that left a mark on Sam that wasn't on Adam. Adam who loved kids and absolutely adored his son Anthony. It seemed every time the kid did something his baby brother sent a picture. He couldn't entirely blame Sam for thinking the way he did – but at the same time, he couldn't believe that his brother could think of children as problems. 

That was no reason to break up with someone. 

Then Jess had dropped the bombshell; she was already pregnant. 

It'd taken a lot of willpower on Dean's part not to go over to Sam's and kick his ass. So instead, he and a few of his friends had gone over to the apartment and cleaned it out of Jess's stuff, most of it getting put into storage. While Jess looked for a new place to stay, she stayed with the Coulters. He and Ignacia slept on the floor of the living room, giving her the bed. Ignacia had done the arguing for the both of them on that point. It was an odd sort of arrangement, some nights he'd wake up and find Liesel sleeping on the pallet with them – and she would change places in the middle of the night. Those were the nights he liked to remember; waking up with Ignacia's head under his chin, Liesel snuggled between them.

It had been Ignacia who found Jess two weeks into her stay in the bathroom soaked in blood from a miscarriage. 

Dean, whose relationship with Sam was already strained, became non-existent. He'd informed his brother as a matter of course and Sam hadn't done more than say 'oh.' Even now, Dean didn't know how he managed to keep his temper that day. A few weeks later, Jess moved in with a few friends and finished up the semester and then transferred to the University of Colorado. The Coulters kept in touch and when Jess married Peter Brown, all three of them had been in the wedding. 

That had been right before they moved to Austin. 

Right before Ignacia became sick.

He had never told Adam about what had happened because he felt he didn't need to know. Adam had been a high school freshman at the time Sam and Jess broke up and Dean always felt that he was too young to know. He also didn't want to ruin Sam and Adam's relationship. He wouldn't do that to Adam. 

Life went on and then, one day when Liesel was eight, he received word from Jess's parents that her husband had been killed. He had felt horrible for Jess. Peter had been an absolutely wonderful person, loving husband and attentive father. Dean hadn't been able to attend the funeral due to work and other issues. So it'd been a bit of a surprise to him when Jess replaced that ass of a principal at Liesel's grade school. 

They remained friends but work and raising their respective children keep them both busy – until last December when he'd invited Jess to lunch on a whim. He'd been in Macy's looking for a Fiestaware pitcher for his mom. She'd been looking for the same thing, although in a different color. She and David came over for Christmas was because of the Denver airport closing. 

The easiest way to confirm that there's something there was to deny that there was nothing going on.

Trying to figure out how he felt towards Jess was a complicated thing.

It wasn't like it had been with Ignacia, which had been a subtle feeling. The sort of love that had grown stronger with each year and had never been some sort of all consuming emotion. Dean wasn't even sure such a thing existed. His feelings for Jess were – well, they were subtle, but it was more of a fear of fucking things up that kept him from fully exploring them.

*

“So how have you been doing?” Jess's signing was slower than her speaking, but that didn't really matter to Dean.

“I'm alright. Fortunately, the cat doesn't let me forget to feed her.” He managed a rueful smile and set his fork down. “Although I confess, I tend to feed her a little more people food than I should.”

“I think Noroc might run off everything she eats.” She chuckled. “Sometimes it seems like she still has the energy of a kitten.”

“She acts like her human years, which is nine.” Dean shrugged. “How's David enjoying eighth grade?”

“Utterly horrified his mother is making him spend it in the school where she's the principal, but it's been that way since first grade, so really, I'm not certain what the problem is.” She shook her head and rolled her eyes. “Then again, it could be him being fourteen.” 

“I remember being fourteen.” He smiled ruefully. “I think I spent every day that year with something wrapped in an ace bandage or tape. A growth spurt messed with my gymnastics and the ground suddenly got closer.” 

Jess laughed slightly. “It seems it should have seemed farther.”

“Not when you do a double layout dismount on the high bar and your feet hit the ground two seconds faster than what you think they should.” Dean stabbed at his asparagus. 

“I see your point.” She frowned. “I don't even know what a double layout is.”

“A layout is a flip with your body fully extended.” He shook his head. “If it helps, I have trouble believing I used to be able to do one.”

Jess paused. “Could you ever do a triple?”

“The last time I did one of those was the Goodwill Games in two-thousand one.” He felt his cheeks turn pink. “That was the last competition I was in before I quit gymnastics and became a full time student.”

“I remember that. Well, not that exactly, but I remember a friend of mine being pissed you didn't stick around for World Championships that year.” She frowned. “Though considering that they left you behind and got their asses handed to them in Sydney, I really don't blame you.” She went pink. “That was the same girl who wanted to claw Ignacia's eyes out because she was dating you.”

Now it was Dean who felt his cheeks flush. “You're making that up.”

“No, I'm not.” She covered her mouth and coughed. “Sorry.”

“It's all right. So who's David's pick for the wild card spot in the playoffs?” He was desperate to change the subject. 

“The Astros – though he's not to eager to admit that around all the Rangers fans in his class.” She cleared her throat. “How are things at the hospital?”

“Fine. There's a few residents I'd like to send back to kindergarten so they can learn manners, but it's more fun to watch them make enemies out of as many nurses as possible.” He ate some of his dinner. “It's a particularly bad crop this year – the techs are all placing bets on who's going to get in the deepest amount of trouble.”

Jess laughed. “Do you make bets?”

“No, I just watch the chaos unfold.” He set his fork down. “Is it me, or was dating easier when we were younger?”

She shook her head. “It's not just you. I think it's that the older you get, the more people get indirectly involved and so it's hard to navigate things.” She ate a few bites of her dinner. “At least we're not trying to be kids doing this.” She set her fork down. “I mean...”

“I know what you mean.” Dean bit at his bottom lip. “Being a kid was hard enough the first time.”

Jess nodded in agreement. “Agreed. Although, if you got to redo it knowing everything you know now, it'd be much easier.”

*  
The light on the porch created a perfect halo in the dark. Dean could see a few other lights on in Jess's house, it was early enough that odds were, David was still awake. 

“Dinner was wonderful.” Jess's cheeks were pink again. “Perhaps we could go next week?”

Dean nearly said yes – but next week was the nineteenth of September. That just – no. “I'll have to see how my schedule is. I'll call you.”

“Sure. I think I have a few school board things next week as well – I need to double check the dates.” She put her hand on the door. “Good night.” 

Without even thinking, Dean stepped forward, set both of his hands on either side of Jess's face and kissed her softly on the lips. “Good night.” He stepped back and went to his car, feeling his cheeks flaming like he was a little boy who'd just stolen a kiss from a girl on the playground. Well, he sort of had. When he got into his car, he was surprised to see that Jess had followed him. A second later, she kissed him back, the same sort of timid, spur of the moment peck that stirred a place in his chest slightly. Before he could respond, she had gone back up to the porch and opened the door of her house. Before she closed it, Jess waved. 

Dean got into his car and drove home, the fluttering feeling in his chest was still there when he arrived.

It was good to feel this way – considering just how long it had been since he had.


End file.
